


Handprints and Good Grips

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, Deepthroating, Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They wouldn’t dare do this with Alfred as their driver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handprints and Good Grips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



> This is for [fleetsparrow](http://tmblr.co/mieqO7CiEnZhoCUaw80ItCA) who gave me the prompt: "Dick needs a haircut, but it's just the right length for optimum grabbing purposes" when I was wailing about needing to get back in the swing of writing NSFW fics for our shared OTP.

Bruce just seems bigger when Dick is on his knees.

Even in the faintly cramped confines of a limousine, all Dick has to do is look  _up_  and he's reminded of how much space Bruce takes up without even trying. His gaze lingers on Bruce's best features, on the broadness of his shoulders and the solidness of his chest and stomach, before zeroing in on where his lover's penis presses insistently against the front of his pants.

Bruce is big all over.

A faint shudder works its way through Dick's body. Resting his cheek against the inside of one of Bruce's powerful thighs, Dick sucks in air like he's starving for oxygen and tries to remind himself that they have time. He doesn't have to rush things if he doesn't want to. Dick can take his time.

Dick licks his lips slowly, eyes still fixed on the prominent bulge hidden behind sleek black fabric of his lover's trousers.

"Take it out," Dick hears himself say in a voice that's damn near hoarse with lust. He lets his left hand drop between his own legs, squeezing his cock through his pants when Bruce moves his big hands down to the front of his pants. He stares like it's the first time all over again, like he's overwhelmed by seeing the slow reveal of Bruce's skin to his hungry eyes.

Bruce's thick fingers don't so much as fumble as he undoes his fly. He eases his underwear down and then curls his fingers around the girth of his shaft, thumb sliding over the tip as it glistens faintly with near-translucent wetness.

"Is this all you want?" Bruce asks of Dick, amusement clear in his deep voice. He strokes himself as Dick watches, dragging out his own touch as his body reacts predictably to the combination of exhibitionism and the tight grip of his hand. Bruce's lips curve up in a small, sharp smile.

Dick hears himself whimper.

He rocks up on his knees and presses in between Bruce's spread legs, already reaching for the older man's skin as hunger makes him ache, makes him harder than before. His hands tremble ever so slightly from how much Dick wants this -- to touch Bruce properly.

 Dick pushes Bruce's hand aside as gently as he can and then leans in with his lips parted just wide enough that taking Bruce in is only a small challenge. He groans as he goes, as the taste of Bruce on his tongue sends a spark up to his brain. It's the kind of spark that's usually followed by Dick getting a little hasty and rushing through his pleasure. It's the kind of spark that usually leaves Dick panting and squirming and  _begging_.

But Dick pushes past it, pushes through that haze and hunger that threatens to overwhelm him, instead taking Bruce in deeper until the head of Bruce's penis nudges against the back of his throat. Dick goes with that nudge, relaxing his throat as he lets a slight thrust of Bruce's hips do the rest of the work.

Bruce's right hand falls heavy against the back of Dick's head. Fingers card through Dick's hair where the strands have mostly escaped the band that Dick used to hold his hair out of his face at the party. The slow and steady stroke of Bruce's hand through Dick's hair spurs him on and he takes Bruce in as deep as he can, working his mouth on that thick shaft until Bruce seems to tire of his slow speed.

The fingers that Bruce has in Dick's hair tighten almost to the point of pain. Bruce uses Dick's hair, wields it like a leash or a handle as his hips jerk up and Dick takes him deep into his throat with a muffled moan and a spasm of fingers across the outside of Bruce's thigh. Bruce uses Dick, fucking into him with thrusts that leave Dick shaking and sucking in air through his nose when he remembers to breathe.

Suddenly --

"I think that's enough of that," Bruce says lowly, pulling Dick's mouth away from his skin and then tilting Dick's head upward so that their eyes can meet. A thin thread of saliva and precome connects the tip of his shaft to Dick's red and swollen lips for a moment until Dick smiles and the thread breaks. "We wouldn't want to scar our driver would we?"

Dick smile turns into throaty laughter.

"You sure about that?" Dick asks, looking at Bruce with a smug smile on his face. "You're still hard. So am I."

Bruce licks his own lips as he looks down at Dick's face. "Imagine trying to do this if we get blacklisted from this company and Alfred has to drive us around."

At once, Dick's smile turns rueful and he wilts visibly. "Oh," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "Good point."


End file.
